Next Time
by somnolent star
Summary: PG-13 for some swearing. A Ginny fic on the Yule Ball. Please R/R.


**Next Time** "..Yule Ball is coming up. I am sorry to inform you that third year will not be able to attend unless you find an older partner. Dress..." Ginny stopped paying attention to Professor McGonagall and sighed wistfully. _Maybe, maybe this year..._ Her head filled with thoughts of Harry, and his green, green eyes, and the tiny lightning bolt scar etched in his forehead..

"Earth to Ginny, earth to Ginny," Cheryl called, teasingly. "Doesn't it suck that we have to go with older boys to the Yule Ball? Of course, we _all_ know who you'd love to go with..." She, Caroline, and Beth all laughed.

"Oh, shut _up_," sighed Ginny, "What about you and-"

"Shut up!" Cheryl cried. "He's coming over, right this way!"

Ginny sighed. Cheryl was been madly in love with Dean Thompson ever since first year. He passed by them, smiling. Cheryl sighed dreamily, as Ginny rolled her eyes. "Cheryl, let's go to dinner now, everyone else has left."

Cheryl shook herself. "Ginny, we just have _got_ to get Harry to ask you this year. It's obvious that its going to be _you_. He's not going to ask Hermione because of your bro-"

"_Shut up!_" Ginny shouted. Curious students were starting to look at them. "Cheryl," she said, lowering her voice, "no one's supposed to know, not even Harry. If you spread it, Ron will kill me!"

"Okay, fine, fine, fine, whatever," Cheryl said, slightly irritated. "I'll get back to you and Harry later. Now, if I could only figure out how to get Dean to ask me, it would be so wonderful, and perfect, and-"

"There's no way I'm letting you help me with Harry _again,_" Ginny said, cutting Cheryl off, sensing another Dean-rant coming on, "I almost _died_ when I heard the poem that you wrote. I mean, seriously, 'His eyes are as green as a _fresh pickled toad_? Even _I_ could've done better than that."

"I won't do anything as drastic as that again, alright? Oh, look, there's Dean, he is _so_ cute..."

Dean _was_ rather cute, Ginny decided. He was tall, with dazzling white teeth, and long eyelashes. However, he wasn't nearly as dashing, brave, or heroic as Harry, and Harry was just as cute.. but then again, Ginny really didn't want anymore competition, although, strangely, she had the best chance of getting close to him. Well, Hermione did, actually, but then there was Ron.. Ginny smiled inwardly. If Ron hadn't been there to take away the chance of Hermione and Harry ever being together, then she probably would've given up and resigned herself to being Aunt Ginny. Of course, there was always a faint chance that they'd somehow overcome Ron's feelings or Ron would start to like someone else, but for now, she was fine...

Days passed by, and some fourth year students asked Ginny, like Justin Finch-Fletchey. A few older students asked her, but she, not knowing who they even were, politely refused. The fact that Harry still hadn't gotten a date gave her hope. But as the Yule Ball drew nearer, she slowly started to lose faith.

She was both overjoyed and rather disappointed when Hermione confided in Ginny about Viktor Krum. Happy for her, that she'd managed to get such a magnicifent date, and disappointed, both because Harry hadn't asked her yet and that this meant she wasn't going with Ron. But as the Yule Ball came closer and closer, she was getting desperate. So this was why, when Neville Longbottom asked her to the Ball, she accepted. As soon as she went back to her dorm, she flung herself onto her bed and cried.

Cheryl came in. "Oh, honey, what's wrong?" she said, trying her best to look sympathetic. Ginny took one look at her and knew Dean had asked her. "I- I- I just said yes to Neville Longbottom!" Ginny howled.

"Honey, that's not that bad," Cheryl crooned, "I'd thought that you just found out who Harry's going with, or something."

"He's going with somebody?" Ginny sat straight up.

"No, sweetie, that's just what I thought," Cheryl explained.

Ginny sighed. "Oh well.. Harry probably wouldn't have asked me anyway. There's nothing to feel bad about."

"There you go," Cheryl said, cheerfully. "If he won't, then you didn't lose anything. If he was, well, then, there's always next time." She literally bounced out of the room, calling, "I'm going to go get Beth to consult on what I should wear!"

_Cheryl never was much help,_ Ginny thought, tiredly. _I'll go down to the common room and see if Hermione's there._ Hermione was a lot better at advice.

Instead, she found Ron, looking rather shocked. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I just asked Fleur Delacour to the Yule Ball," he said, with a bewildered look on his face. "I- I don't know why, it just came over me, and I went and asked.. she stared at me like I was one of Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts! I can't believe it, oh God..." he buried his face in his hands.

Ginny struggled not to laugh. "It's- it's okay," she choked. The portrait swung open, and Harry entered. Ginny looked up, eyes sparkling with mirth, as she explained what'd happened. Harry comforted him, saying something about veelas. She was gazing into his green eyes, imagining that she was dancing with him, when she heard:

"He's going with Cho Chang. I asked her to go with me just now, and she told me."

_No._

Ginny could feel her heart slowly sinking.

She barely heard Ron say something about Neville and Hermione. "..didn't want to go with Neville... I mean, who would?"

She felt a faint flicker of anger appear. "Don't! Don't laugh-" she said, as Hermione entered.

"Why weren't you two at dinner?" she asked, coming over.

"Because- oh shut up laughing, you two- because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!" Ginny said. 

Her words had the desired effect. They shut up. "Thanks a bunch, Ginny," Ron said, frowning.

"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?" smiled Hermione, with an air of superiority. Ginny smiled. Hermione always thought of things Ginny wanted to say but could never say them. "Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone _somewhere_ who'll have you."

Ron was staring at Hermione. "Hermione..." Ginny stopped focusing on the conversation and started to look at Harry. He wasn't really paying attention either, and was looking rather depressed. _Poor thing,_ Ginny thought, sympathetically, even though she knew he was mooning over Cho.

Hermione stormed off to the girls' dormitory. "She's lying," Ron said, grouchily.

"She's not," Ginny said.

"Who is it then?"

"I'm not telling you, it's her business," Ginny said, getting rather annoyed.

"Right," Ron said, "this is getting stupid. Ginny, _you_ can go with Harry, and I'll just-"

_No. How could I have been so stupid? No..._

"I can't," Ginny, feeling close to tears. She blushed, and explained, "I'm going with- with Neville." _Oh, how I loathe that name, now._ "He asked me when Hermione said no, and I thought... well... I'm not going to be able to go otherwise, I'm not in fourth year. I think I'll go have dinner," she said, planning to look for Caroline. Caroline was a good comforter, but she wasn't always there. Ginny walked out through the portrait hole. She scanned the hall for signs of her friends, but spotted no one. Dejectedly, she walked back to the Gryffindor common room. Parvati Patil and her friend, Lavender Brown, were there. "Oh my God, I can't believe it!" squealed Parvati. "I'm going with _Harry Potter_!"

Ginny's heart fell, if possible, even lower.

_Fuck._

She raced up to her dorm. Parvati and Lavender didn't even notice her. She collapsed on her bed, sobbing. _I shouldn't have said yes, oh, Merlin, why did I say yes? I could be happy right now, I could be.. I could be.. Harry's date! Why, why, why?!_

She cried for a long time. She didn't know where her friends were, and she didn't particularly care. She heard Cheryl's happy voice in her head. _There's always next time._

_Yea right,_ Ginny thought, _there won't be a next time._ Harry would either still be in love with Cho or go after someone else, like Parvati. There might not even be another Yule Ball. This had been her chance, her big break, and she'd blown it. How could she?

_Next time,_ the words ran though her head, blurring together. _Next time next time next time it'll be better..._

She raised her head, eyes clouded over with tears, and smiled wryly. _Maybe when I'm eighty, and a grandmother, I can sit down and tell my grandchildren about my third year at Hogwarts, when I had a chance to go to the Yule Ball with Harry Potter.. they'll ooh and aah, and ask why I didn't go with him, and I'll say:_

Next time.


End file.
